


RearView

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Lawyer Sam, M/M, Murder, PTSD, Supernatural - Freeform, Theft, Violence, cell block dynamics, dark au, false convction, felon Dean, gang members - Freeform, non con, prision AU, prision dynamics, prision riots, thug cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is falsely convicted of murder and sentenced to life in prison. He shouldn't be scared right? He's a big guy. He can handle himself. Until lights out and he's attacked by his cell mate. But for good reason? He soon learns the only way for survival is to link up with his cell mate Castiel Krushnik, who agrees to teach Dean about the politics of prison life. A notorious thug,whose conviction remains a mystery to all, Dean comes to confide in the lonely prisoner and together they dream of a life outside of the dark grey prison</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't really seen this done and I don't see enough badass Cas. Plus I like the idea of Thug Cas. Enjoy!

"Guilty." Dean's heart sank as the judge read off the verdict. He zoned out. There were groans and cheers of triumph behind him, he sat back down in disbelief, stony and unreadable. He didn't know what to think except 'I didn't murder my wife!' 

"Dean," he heard his brother Sam, who had been allowed to be his lawyer, leaning close and placing a hand on his shoulder, "we'll start working on appeals. We won't stop trying to prove your innocence," Dean didn't know what to say, a guard hooked his hand under Dean's arm and hauled him to his feet. Dean didn't even remember getting back in the police cruiser.

-0- 

"Strip," an orange jumpsuit was tossed at Dean as he was forced into a cool brick room. He stripped quickly, shrugging off his suit jacket and shoving down his pants. Everything he did was mechanical. He couldn't believe this was real, that this was really happening to him. Once he was buttoned up handcuffs were placed on his hands and around his ankles, the cool metal bit into his wrists harshly, making him grimace. "Stay on the left side and follow me." The guard motioned to Dean as he led him further and further from freedom. 

The prison was large, cell blocks around almost every corner, Dean was scared, dread filled his stomach as he was led down a long corridor towards a Block titled 'D Block'. The guard scanned a white card, there was a buzzer and the door slid open. "Home sweet Home Winchester," the guard chuckled, pushing Dean along. He kept his eyes downcast, cringing inwardly at the yelps and catcalls sent his way. There were big metal doors with glass windows in them on every side and up a set of steps, tables were scattered around, chairs strewn everywhere. Inmates are where they slept here apparently. 

"Krushnik!" The guard led Dean up to one of the cells and opened the door. There were two bunks, a sink and a toilet. Great. 

The man named Krushnik was lying back leisurely on his bunk, a book propped up on his stomach. His eyes flickered over to Dean and the guard then back down to the book. 

"I don't do cell mates Garth." Dean studied the man as best he could, he had thick black hair that looked as though someone had ran their fingers through it endlessly. His skin was tanned and he had a good build, a runner's build, his body was covered in ink, tattoos that went from his neck down to his knuckles and probably covered more of his torso, but those were covered by a white wife beater. He brought a cigarette to his lips and dragged lazily. 

"According to Warden Naomi you do. And that's officer Fitzgerald to you. Now," he pushed Dean into the room. Dean thought he saw a sympathetic look on the guards face. But he turned before Dean could glance again and locked him in the cell. 

Dean stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do, he didn't want to get his ass beat in the first day, granted Dean could most likely take him in a fair fight, but this was jail and the rules in here were different from the ones out there. 

"Sit down. You make me nervous." Dean sat abruptly on the bed across from the man. He still didn't know what to make of his situation. It all felt like a dream. "What's your name kid?" Dean raised an eyebrow in annoyance. He wasn't a fucking kid. The Krushnik guy wasn't paying attention, eyes still focused on the book in his hands. 

"Winchester. I'm Dean Winchester." The man dog eared his book and sat up, flicking the ashes of his cigarette in a blue ashtray by his leg. He finally turned his attention to Dean, Dean had never seen eyes like his, they were so blue, like a clear lake or the ocean, his eyes were older, mysterious, as if he'd seen more than he should have in his years. 

"I'm Cas. And as long as you stay out of my way and don't go through my shit we won't have any problems. Got it?" He stood, grabbing another cigarette and sucking it behind his ear. Dean could now see clearly the tattoos that littered his skin and covered him. He nodded slowly, his mouth going dry. 

"O-okay," Cas nodded going to the door. 

"Good. Welcome to Hell Dean Winchester." He slammed the metal door behind him, leaving Dean to curl up and cry alone. 

-0-

The food was terrible and prison was not like the movies. Everything was puréed, and they were given plastic forks. Dean grimaced as he lifted the mash potatoes with his spork and watched them ooze back down onto his tray. He'd be eating this for the next 25 years or so. Great. But he was hungry. And he was just about to take a bite when....

He came up out of nowhere, a large man with a tattoo of angel wings on the side of his neck. He flashed a pearly white smile down at Dean and snatched his tray from him, Dean watched the man go back to his seat and devour the food right along with his own. Dean's stomach growled. 

"H-hey, you're Dean Winchester right?" A smaller guy with wort brown hair and nervous eyes sat down across from Dean. Dean nodded, eyeing the tray of food with longing. He hadn't eaten since the night before and he was starving. But that ass hole with the Angel tattoo took his food. 

"Yeah, yeah that's me," Dean was relieved as the guy passed him the carton of unopened milk and the small bowl of fruit from his tray, Dean took the offer without complaint. 

"My name's Chuck," he pointed with his spork at the guy who had taken Dean's tray. "That's Uriel. He'll do that everyday for the first week, he's sizing you up, trying to get a rise out of you. Don't let him. You fight him and we'll find your body in the showers." Dean felt the blood drain from his face. 

"S-so all that shit...it's real?" Chuck nodded. 

"You think it's a game in here? There are rules. You don't follow the rules you pay the price. And usually that's your life. But if you keep your mouth shut and your head down you'll be just fine." Dean nodded. 

"What are you here for?" Chuck scoffed, he seemed a little nervous. 

"Illegal sales and distribution." So Chuck was a dealer who got caught. "What are you in for?" Dean stilled, he locked eyes with Chuck, trying to gauge whether he could trust him or not. 

"I-I was accused of murdering my wife." 

"But you didn't?" Dean shook his head. 

"Damn. I'm sorry. But them's the breaks. And until they prove your innocence you're stuck here." Dean smiled humorlessly. "Who's your cellmate?" 

"Cas Krushnik?" Chuck visibly flinched at Cas's name. Dean raised his eyebrows. Chuck looked around nervously before leaning in across the table towards Dean. 

"Be careful with him. He curb stomped a rival gang member's face and did two weeks in solitary for it. He's a straight up thug. Nobody messes with him in here. He's probably the most dangerous inmate in this cell block." 

"What's he in for?" Chuck shrugged. 

"Nobody knows. And if they do, they're scared enough of him not to say. Word is he was a gang member. But I don't know. All I know is he's dangerous and everyone steers clear of him. I'm surprised they gave him a cell mate." Dean looked over Chuck's shoulder to a table in the far back corner. Cas sat there alone, book propped open and cigarette in hand as he ate. From where Dean sat, Cas looked no more dangerous than a baby. But looks can be deceiving. 

"Just be careful," Chuck repeated. " you cross him and it's all over for you. If prison were a class system, he would be the king and we would be the peasants." 

-0- 

Dean felt his first day had not been too bad. Chuck spent time with him during Rec and he also managed to snag a job in the laundry room. So far he'd been able to keep his nose clean. 

It was time to get ready for bed, Dean was ushered back into his cell for the final time that day. Cas was lying on his bed, cigarette in hand and book propped open. Dean wondered if he ever stopped smoking or reading. 

"Heard you landed a job on the first day," Cas's tone was mocking and condescending. "Look at you." Dean ignored Cas, opting instead to get settled back down into bed. He didn't realize Cas was watching his every movement. 

A few moments later another buzzer went off and there was a simultaneous click. The doors were locked and the lights shut off. Dean laid on his back and closed his eyes. His mind races, thinking about Lisa, his wife, his brother Sam, his parents. The circumstances that had brought him here. He sunk further and further into depression. 

His heart jumped in panic when he felt something heavy drape itself over him. A hand came down hard over his mouth as he tried to scream out. It smelled of cigarette smoke and musk. Dean kicked and squirmed, trying to break free. But Cas was stronger and managed to tie a cloth around Dean's hands, binding him. He straddled Dean's hips, looking down at him with raging blue eyes, his hand pressed harder against Dean's lip. Dean felt his flesh cutting against his teeth. 

"Shut up," Cas snarled, lips close to Dean's ear. "I'm doing you a favor." Dean's body tensed as Cas's lips clamped down on his neck and his hand made it's way into his pants.


	2. Chapter 2

Cas hadn't raped Dean. Not in the sense that he flipped him over and fucked him. No Cas had not done that. But he did give Dean, possibly, the best blowjob he'd ever received. (Dean hated to admit it and it made him sick, but it was true.) 

Cas had swallowed him in one swift bob of his head, he had sucked hard, dragging his tongue along the underside of Dean's cock. Dean had felt a mixture of disgust and arousal forming a hard knot in the pit of his stomach. His body betrayed him, his cock hardened and dripped, eager for realese And when he finally did reach orgasm Cas had sucked hard, swallowing it all. 

"Tastes sweet." Cas wiped his mouth and untied Dean's hands. Dean brought them down quickly, rubbing his wrists and checking to make sure nothing was broken. Cas moved without another word, climbing back into his bed and turning over to sleep peacefully. Dean felt paralyzed, unable to register exactly what had just happened to him. He curled up on his side, turned toward Cas, in case he tried to come back for more. Dean didn't know if he could win against him but he's damn sure try. He feigned sleep for hours, finally drifting off restlessly after the first Rays of sun started to poke through their little window. 

-0-

Uriel took Dean's breakfast. Not that Dean was hungry anyway, he rubbed his temples with his forefingers and sighed heavily, the night before still troubled him. 

"Take it you didn't enjoy lights out?" Dean jumped a bit, frightened, until he saw Chuck sit down across from him at the table. He passed Dean his carton of milk. 

"That guy jumped me," Dean whispered this low, under his voice so no one else could hear, "He...he-"

"I know. The whole block could hear you groaning." Dean felt his face flush with heat. His eyes darted across the the rec area, no one was watching him or seemed to be whispering. It was as if they deliberately were avoiding him. 

"But I don't understand-"

"He marked you Dean. You're his territory now." Dean's face turned a deep shade of red and his brow knitted in confusion. Chuck sighed, "Cas marked you so you're his bitch. Now nobody is gonna fuck with you because no one wants to deal with Cas. He was helping you." Dean felt anger and hatred for the other man swell in the pit of his stomach. 

"But I don't need protecting. I don't need help from him. I'm big enough to handle myself." Chuck stared at Dean for a second before motioning towards the table a couple feet ahead of them. Uriel sat there with three others. 

"You see those guys?" Dean nodded, "A guy like you came in a couple months ago. Uriel took his tray and picked at him. Guy ignored it, like you did, and went about his business, day in and day out....they found him in the library. Uriel and his little gang payed the librarian to take a walk while they had some fun. The kid got taken to the hospital. We ain't seen him back sense."

"You mean they-"

"Fucked him like a blow up doll? Yup. From what I hear there was blood everywhere. They like to break the new ones, especially if they're pretty." Dean's eyes were wide, his face sickly pale. Chuck nodded sadly. "Trust me you could have it much worse. Be glad Cas took an interest in saving you. And on your first day too! Cas doesn't help anybody." Dean looked over at the dark haired man who was sitting closer today. He wasn't eating, instead he flicked the ashes of an ever present cigerette before flipping the page of the book he was reading today. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. 

Cas must have felt someone watching because his head snapped up and he locked eyes with Dean. Dean wanted to look away but Cas held him there. Cas regarded Dean lazily, before his eyes downcast, devouring the book in his hands. 

"Why would he help me? He doesn't even know me" Chuck shrugged, wiping egg off his mouth. 

"Maybe he likes you," Dean knew he was teasing, but he couldn't help blurting out: 

"But I'm not gay." 

"You think every guy in here that gets a fuck is gay? You don't have to be gay to get fucked here." He leaned closer, stretching across the table. Dean felt a twinge of panic as his personal space is invaded once again. "Every rule, every restriction you learned out there forget. This is an entirely different world. With a whole new set of rules. Trust me. The quicker you let go of outside, the easier and more likely you'll survive."

-0-

Dean liked laundry detail. It was the one part of the day where he was out of the unit and actually moving. Cas worked there too, but he was half way across the room, giving Deab the chance to study him. From afar. 

He had worked in construction for a long time. And the fast pace of work felt good. Folding underwear wasn't exactly the same as lifting beams, but at least his hands were busy again. 

Twenty minutes or so into work the guard left, it was time to change shifts for them. Dean and the other inmates continued working. 

Dean was loading dirty whites into the washer when he felt someone behind him, breathing heavily down his neck. 

"Aren't you pretty," the unknown threat pressed hard hands on Dean's hips. Fear swirled low and he felt like he was going to vomit. The man pressed a cold kiss to the back of Dean's neck. 

"Alastair!" The pressure was fine before Dean could register what happened. He turned to see Cas throwing an older man to the ground. Cas's shoulders tensed and his muscles flexed. He looked absolutely horrifying. Alastair didn't flinch. 

Cas turned to Dean, yanking him forward and sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of Dean's neck. He yelled at the sudden flash of pain and watched Alastair's eyes darken in challenge. "This boy is mine," Cas snarled, releasing Dean and turning back to the man on the floor. "He's mine Alastair." Alastair jumped up, a taunting smirk crossing his lips. He winked at Dean, who visibly shuddered. 

"For now." He turned and left the laundry room. The new guard showed up as Alastair was walking out. Dean looked at Cas, the flush was leaving his cheeks. He ran his fingers through his hair and got back to work folding, he didn't say one word to Dean. 

-0-

Everything Dean had ever heard about prison was a lie. For the most part. Dean had seen the legendary fights. At least three of them. And he watched someone get tased. He came to the sad realization that Chuck was right. Prison was a different world. Unfamiliar and scary. 

Which was why Dean felt apprehensive and nervous about the showers. This was the one thing he was positive no one lied to him about. 

Ushered into a large open area that looked like a locker room, except no lockers just benches, Dean self consciously undressed in front of the other inmates. He felt them watching, eyes trailing over his creamy completion and toned abs. He bulked himself up, trying to appear bigger than he was, as a guard handed him a bar of soap on a rope. He couldn't see Cas anywhere, he was surprised at the disappointment that settled over his heart. He flinched inwardly at the fear that crept behind it. 

"Ten minutes! In and out fellas," a guard, Garth, the one who escorted Dean the day before, herded the men into the shower room, he stood with his back to them, guarding the exit. 

The white tiles were cool under Dean's feet. It was a small square room with exactly twenty shower heads, lining the walls. 

Twenty heads for fifteen men. 

Dean went to the back corner, checking over his shoulder every few seconds before he got there. The water was warm and felt good in his skin. He turned away from the wall and began to wash his body. He wanted to make sure no one took him by surprise. 

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, allowing the warm spray to cover him. A soft moan escaped his lips, only to earn a leerin cat call. He flinched. 

Uriel was across the room from him, watching him, with a longing hunger in his eyes. Dean swallowed hard and tried not to let the other man see that he was nervous. Uriel cracked a smile, bright teeth flashing against dark skin. Dean was about to shut the water off and run when a familiar frame stood in front of him, blocking Uriel's gaze. 

Once again Cas was there to save the day. He pushed Dean back under the water and grabbed the soap from him, scrubbing at his muscles none too gently. Dean realized Cas was staking claim but it didn't matter. If being Cas's meant that fucks like Uriel couldn't get to him, he's get on his knees right now. 

Up closer Dean could see Cas was covered in tattoos, they went across his chest, down his stomach to his thighs, legs and feet, over his shoulders and down his arms. The guy was a walking piece of art. 

When he finished washing Dean he stepped back and handed him the soap. Dean stared at it for a moment before realizing it was his turn to was Cas and reached out hesitantly to touch the man. Cas rolled his eyes but relaxed, allowing Dean to explore his body. Dean kept his eyes down. Afraid to get lost in his gaze again. He didn't understand it. Cas wouldn't speak to him. Not a word. But when Dean was in distress he seemed to be right there. Like head watching over Dean. Like an angel?

"Alright boys towel up! Lights out in twenty!" 

-0-  
The first day had been exhausting. Dean flopped down on his bed, only to grimace when his back hit the hard bunk. He rolled over onto his side, facing Cas's side. 

The other man was reading again, eyes darting across the pages. Dean wonders if he did anything else. He was about to ask when the lights turned off and the doors locked. He swallowed hard, his body tensing. If Cas came at him again he would fight. Regardless of whether or not Cas thought he was helping Dean, Dean would not be taken advantage of. 

He heard rustling, the book being put down and the sheets of Cas's bed being moved. He waited, wondering and nervous, fighting diff the drowsiness that longed to take him. He waited two hours. But Cas never came for him.


End file.
